The Mutt's Angel
by ArtemisMoonrose
Summary: Some people spend years trying to find out who they are. I found out today. I'm a mutt, and I'm in love with a pack member. How did life get so messed up?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone. I'm looking forward to writing this story. I adore Kelley Armstrong, she's just a one woman supernatural fiction machine. I love her writing so much. I do not own any of the characters in this story other than Olivia and her family. (Basically her dad and a deceased mum) All other characters in this story belong to the paranormal genius of Kelley Armstrong. **

**Anyway, when I wrote this I was thinking about a dream I had. I decided that mutts really do get a tough time, and even though the majority do deserve it, there must be some nice mutts out there. You could think of the nice ones as lone wolves instead of mutts. Anyway, have a read and see what you think. Enjoy...**

Chapter One – Nothing Lasts Forever

_Because I could not stop for Death --  
He kindly stopped for me --  
The Carriage held but just Ourselves --  
And Immortality. _

_**Emily Dickinson**_

She was unique. Daddy had always made sure she knew that. She was special. She was different. There was no one else like her in the world. She thought it was silly of Daddy to say that. She already knew she was different. Everybody was different. No-one could ever be exactly the same as another person. Even twins had different fingerprints. But Daddy always told her she was _extra_ special. He said that no-one else in the world had what he had. That was why they were always running away. That was why she didn't get to make friends in the towns they stopped at. That was why Daddy got angry if she talked to strangers. That was why Mummy died.

When Daddy had told her she was special, he had told her about magic. Not the silly magic the magician used at the circus they stopped at, the big one they'd been to in Ottawa. That was pretend magic. What Daddy could do, what Mummy used to do, what Olivia would one day be able to do, was real magic. Daddy had shown her once. He had gone into the kitchen, made some funny noises, and a big yellow wolf had come out. Olivia hadn't believed him. She'd squealed and hidden behind the sofa. But then the wolf had wagged it's tail, like a huge friendly dog. It had played with her, and licked her cheek. She knew it was Daddy then. She knew it was real magic.

Daddy said Mummy used to be able to do the same thing, turn into a wolf, but Mummy had been a bit smaller. She was a brown wolf too, the colour of her hair. Olivia would be a yellow wolf like Daddy. Daddy promised Olivia would be able to do the magic too. She'd do the magic even better than him, because both her Mummy _and_ Daddy had the magic. Daddy also told her about a big group of magic wolves, called The Pack. He said the Pack sorted out naughty wolves, who didn't follow the rules. He said that The Pack thought _they_ were naughty wolves, and that was why they must never meet them. _He_ thought Olivia was special, but The Pack wouldn't think so. They would think she was a monster. She didn't want to be a monster.

They were in Buffalo when The Pack found them. Olivia didn't want to be a monster.

-x-x-x-

"In here sweetheart!" Daddy whispered, pushing her behind a skip. Daddy had run down an alley. Olivia didn't like it; everything was dark and Daddy was scared. He had hidden her in his coat when they had seen the blonde man. There was a tall lady with him as well, and a dark-haired man with a sad face. They had seen Daddy, but they hadn't seen Olivia. Daddy had run out into the street. It was October and very snowy. Daddy's footsteps made crunching sounds in the snow. Olivia was crying when he hid her in the alley. The tall people scared her.

"Jason Monroe." The dark-haired man had said, walking into the alley. Daddy had turned to face them, shielding Olivia's hiding place with his body.

"You found me then." Daddy said, pretending to smile.

"It took a while but we did. We've warned you one too many times about the penalty for human murder. You know the consequences."

"I'm ready for the consequences, but are you ready for the rebellion?"

"Jason, fighting will only make it worse."

Daddy looked at the floor, clenching his fists into tight balls. "Did you ever wonder," he said through gritted teeth, "that perhaps by killing those humans I was protecting something I love?"

"Regardless of the reason, you killed four humans. You aren't a skilled killer Jason, those bodies were easy to find. We had to clear up your mess in order to avoid exposing the werewolf race. Too many mistakes, Jason."

"Jeremy," the blonde man growled, "talking wont help him."

The man, Jeremy, stepped towards Daddy. "Please Jason, this will only be a second. Mercy is something I'm good at."

Daddy snarled, meeting the man's eyes. "Tell her, I love her." A flicker of confusion flashed briefly through the dark-haired man's eyes. Then he twisted Daddy's neck. His head went round the wrong way. Before his eyes dimmed with death, Olivia saw a flash of fear, and something she lived to receive from Daddy. Pure fatherly love.

"No!" She squealed, "Daddy!"

The lady who was with the men jumped forward, over Daddy's body and into Olivia's hiding place. Her eyes opened wide as she spotted Olivia, whose little body was curled in on itself in fear. Olivia hiccuped, tears rolling down her cold pink face. "Daddy." She mumbled, clutching the gold locket he had given her.

"Jeremy?" The lady said, picking Olivia up. Jeremy stepped forward, sniffing the air. His eyes widened, just like the lady's had.

"She's wolf. Like the twins."

"This was who he meant. This was who he was protecting."

"She might not be his," the blonde man said, growling, "she might just be some kid he stole. He probably wanted to make a meal out of her."

"Shut up Clay," the lady snarled, "you can smell Monroe on her just as easily as I can, and you can smell the wolf. You saw with your own eyes he was protecting her."

"Daddy?" Olivia whispered, tugging the lady's jacket. She hiccuped again and snivelled, a tear dribbling down her face.

"Jeremy, you don't think we made the wrong decision do you?"

"No. The reasons for his actions may have been good, but that doesn't excuse them. Take her to the car. She's under our protection now, we owe him that. Clay and I will meet you there shortly.

The lady walked past Jeremy, Olivia cradled in her arms. Jeremy stretched out one big hand. He gently stroked the soft locks on Olivia's head. "He loves you." He whispered.

The night had been cold. It had been frightening. Olivia was two years old. After a hot bath and a long sleep,she would forget that night for a long time. Only fifteen-years-later would she start to search for answers.

**Voilà!!!!!!!!!!**

**There you go, the first chapter to this story. I tried to keep the emotions of a child while still giving the detail you get with third-person narrative. I hope it worked. I've kept it short for storyline purposes. The next chapters will be a lot longer. :) Anyway, I'd love to here what you think so PM me or review.**

**Bye Bye.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello. Thank you to my reviewers, you've motivated me to beat away writer's block with a...well with a blonde werewolf and a large bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Anyway, the only character I own in this fiction is Olivia and any of her genetic family members...and a random guy called Caleb who is vaguely mentioned. So, enjoy it and please review.**

Chapter Two – Smothered

Even seventeen-year-olds get scared when talking to their parents. It's just a parent/teenager thing. If the request is something we know they won't like, then _everyone_ panics. I bet the teenagers in the medieval times were scared to ask if they could go to the public executions with the cute farmer's son. At the end of the day, it's a natural adolescent phenomenon to be nervous of asking favours. Although we may try to drift from out parents' rules, admit it; we know they hold the authority.

Of course in my case, they're not my real parents, and I'm not asking for an extension on my allowance. If only it were that simple. No, this situation involves requesting permission from my werewolf guardians to go to a nightclub mainly used by humans, until recently when it has been claimed by a rebellious mutt.

Honestly, my life is like some seriously mixed up TV series, with a live audience cracking up every time wolf-girl puts her foot in it. Or _paw_ in it.

My knees are clanging as I finally pluck up the courage to knock on the door. Before my knuckles connect with the wood, someone calls a gruff "come in". I turn the handle, pushing slowly and poking my head around the door.

"Judging by your reluctance to enter and the infuriating pacing of the corridor for the last ten minutes, I'm going to assume I'm not going to like what you have to ask."

I grin sheepishly and sidle into the room. Jeremy Danvers, pack Alpha and my adoptive father, continues to read a newspaper, eyes scanning the pages with frightening speed. His eerily accurate assessment of my mind has thrown me, and I've forgotten my carefully prepared persuasive speech. Sometimes, I swear that the man is psychic.

"Olivia, please, if you're going to ask something just do it."

I giggle awkwardly, rubbing the back of my head. " Well, you know I mentioned going on a trip soon? Yeah, so I thought about doing that Friday night. It'd be perfectly safe, I mean, I know it's a human hang out but I won't be any trouble and..."

"Olivia, I don't think it's a good idea. It isn't that the situation itself is particularly dangerous, and of course Catherine will go with you but..."

"...but you don't trust me, right?"

"Olivia, I wasn't going to say that."

"You didn't have to." I shrug my shoulders, "Besides, the whole pack knows what happened last time."

Jeremy frowns at me. Last time, my little escapade with Catherine ended in a fiasco. I may have _accidentally_ knocked some human flying when she started bothering me. Any teenager would have hit her, besides, she hit _me_ first. I just forgot to control my temper, and didn't really consider the werewolf strength packed behind my punch. It was very embarrassing to be told off by the entire pack, especially a particularly hot eighteen-year-old blonde who has far better control than me and who...never mind.

That was all three months ago. I've served my time, grounded at home, banned from all the teenage necessities such as MSN, Face Book and the phone. I even surrendered my mobile to the paws of my overprotective wardens. Why couldn't Jeremy just sign my release form and let me go?

"Olivia, last time, though of course accidentally, you nearly exposed us. If anything like that were to happen again, and the Council found out, then they would force a vote against you. Now if you have a death wish, go ahead, but if you value _your_ life and _my_ sanity then you will drop this and go help Clay wash up."

_Perhaps I should play that death wish idea to my advantage. _I guess I can see the point he's making. If I were to expose werewolves, then I would also risk exposing other paranormal races. Though the pack would support me if any trouble did start, against the strength of the Council we are sadly outnumbered. We would be overpowered by them, and in choosing to stand together would _all_ be exterminated. Losing my temper again would endanger myself and the pack.

"Jeremy. I'll behave. We'll catch an early showing at the cinema, and if I have to I'll sacrifice the greasy fast-food and come straight home. I'll be back before it gets dark. Since the punching incident Clay has really cranked my training up a notch, and I've been practising those breathing techniques you taught me. Before the sun sets I'll be snuggled up in bed with a glass of warm milk catching the latest episode of _Scrubs_."

Jeremy fixes me with a hard stare. He's considering my proposition. If I was in wolf form my tail would be wagging hopefully.

"_Fine_. Back before dark, Olivia!"

I nod and exit the room before he can change his mind. Once in the hall, I begin my victory dance. It's a combination of hip rotations and the funky chicken. Sad, but totally earned. I begin to skip giddily back to my room, to add "Negotiating" to my list of talents. Before I reach the stairs Jeremy pokes his head around his door and clears his throat. I screech to a halt, looking over my shoulder at him. "I want you to take Catherine _and_ Logan with you. For safety of course."

He wants me to take _Logan_. Oh, hell's biscuits.

_You know those dreams where you are running, but for some reason you cannot run fast enough? Well, this is one of those dreams._

_I'm fleeing, fleeing something so terrifying that my gut leaps and tightens. My mind works overtime, furiously driving my body forward till I sweat. Unusual, since to my knowledge it is impossible to sweat in wolf form. Yet I can clearly feel tiny beads of perspiration gathering under my thick fur. _

_My paws move in slow motion. Though my brain pummels my legs forward at breathtaking speed, they move with the nerve-grating slowness of overly dramatized running scenes. It's like trying to run through glue._

_I can see a form ahead of me, a shadow, flitting through the trees. His scent is thick in my nose, wild and earthy, a combination of powerful storms and ancient forests._

_That is when I realise, I'm not fleeing something I am scared of. I am chasing something I fear losing. I'm racing my soul, and it's getting away._

_I've had this dream before._

"Olivia!"

My eyes snap open. I gasp, panting, desperately trying to control my breathing. For a moment I panic. Am I still running? The world flashes past me, and the wind rustles my hair. Then I realise where I am. In the Mitsubishi Warrior, in the passenger seat, asleep, with the window open. Holy shit.

I sigh, leaning forwards with head in hands and elbows on knees. "Olivia, are you alright?"

Catherine Danvers, my best friend in the world, leans over and rubs my back, keeping one hand on the wheel. I shudder, pushing back into the comforting warmth of her hand. I can feel the sweat trickling down my forehead and the tears stinging my eyes.

"It was that dream again wasn't it?"

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself and closing my eyes. "It's been haunting my sleep every night this week, but I guess that isn't enough anymore. Now it has to haunt my day as well." My voice wavers on the last word, and I wince, trying to escape from the memory.

"Have you talked to Jeremy about it? I'm sure he could help."

"I don't think so. Jeremy would tell me I'm just stressed and that would be another excuse to extend my prison sentence in the nut house."

"Well I'm no psychiatrist but judging by the fact that you're chasing a masculine presence and you definitely have strong feelings for this presence, I would say you're missing something every person needs. Have you talked to my twin recently?" She flashes an innocent look at me from the corner of her eye.

"Profound explanation Dr. Danvers. No I haven't. Do you honestly think that talking to Logan about my dreams would be a good idea? You know I still can't believe we escaped without him. Anyway, first he'd tell me that I clearly have issues with my wolf self, then he'd run a mile at the thought of a long-term commitment and vanish to New York like he did the last time I mentioned my feelings to him."

Catherine sighs but lets it drop. She knows how sensitive I get about relationship talks. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and stare absent-mindedly out of the window. "So," I ask, desperate to shift the subject matter from me to her, "Is Caleb going to be there tonight. I think he likes you, he was blatantly checking you out last time we went for a group outing.

Catherine sighs again. "Not tonight. When I asked him he said he was going to Harvard, something about looking round and checking it out before he accepts the scholarship. The nerd. I mean, seriously, who has to _consider_ accepting a scholarship to Harvard Law. Any sane person would say yes and pack their bags."

Catherine grins, turning her head to wink at me. "What are we like eh?" She says as we pull into the club car park. "We're both gorgeous specimens, I have an angelic face, you have great tits, and yet we're both crushing on the two guys who wont even give us the time of day.

I laugh with Catherine, although it is a horrible empty sound. I feel quite sad. I don't think my feelings for Logan can be described as "crushing". They go a lot deeper than that.

-x-x-x-

The club is packed. I've just spent the last ten minutes being jostled against an acne-flecked teen, face pressed into the putrid odour of his sweat patch. Thanks to my strong sense of smell, the scent is overly powerful. Still, I can't let some guy who couldn't be bothered to wear antiperspirant ruin my night. It took too much energy to wrangle a pass out of Jeremy for that. Beside me Catherine waves her arms around, bouncing along to the thumping bass. The music (if you can even call it that) is hurting my ears, but quite honestly I don't care. It's just nice to be out.

My head flicks to the side, as my nose picks up something. It's diluted, tainted with the sickly smell of hormones and alcohol. Mutt.

I jab Catherine, who nods. She smells him to. So much for a nice night out. We can't risk him catching us; two full-blood female werewolves is the rarest find in the supernatural world, and no mutt would hesitate in...well, passing on his genes. Catherine and I begin to shimmy towards the door. The night out is officially over. We pass the bouncer easily enough, slipping down the alley that leads to the car park. We don't look back, just keep walking briskly, eyes straight ahead. Movement flashes right behind us, and strong hands close over the nape of our necks. Catherine snarls and I yelp as warm breath tickles our hair.

"You two," a low voice growls, "are in So. Much. Trouble."

Logan. I crane my head back to look at his handsome face, which towers above me. Sapphire orbs glitter with fury and his strong jaw line is tense. I smile sheepishly, a blush illuminating my face. He snarls and shakes me slightly.

"This is not a joke, Olivia!"

I shudder, suppressing a whine as it sneaks up my throat. I resist the urge to fall at his feet, tail between my legs, begging, adoring, submitting. Damn, why does Logan always have this effect on me? He marches us forward, propelling us to the car park. Catherine tugs herself out of his grasp. She equals Logan in pack rank, and can stand up for herself. I don't dare. I'm the Omega wolf. The lowest. Logan's grip stays tight on my neck, as he thrusts a helmet, leather jacket and set of keys at Catherine.

"Ride my bike back, Olivia will ride with me in the truck." I give a quiet whine as Catherine mounts a silver motorbike, shooting me a sympathetic look. I shudder as Logan opens the passenger door, shoving me inside.

"I'm sorry Logan." He ignores me, eyes focused on the road, one hand tight on the wheel, the other crushing the gear-stick. We've been driving for half an hour now, and no one has said a word. Well, until I made a feeble attempt at breaking the awkward silence. "Logan," I practically whine, "I really am sorry. Logan, please talk to me."

He sighs quietly, "What do you want me to say?" He mutters.

"I don't know. Something, anything, I just...hate it when you don't talk to me." _Not that you ever talk to me even when I have behaved myself, _ I think. "I really am sorry, I just feel so smothered at home."

"Olivia, every teen-wolf feels smothered. You just have to deal with it. Catherine and I do."

"Well, Catherine isn't exactly the beaming angel either." I huff.

He turns slightly, fixing me with a hard stare, "You honestly expect me to believe that escaping without me was Catherine's idea?"

"No, oh no, it wasn't, I didn't mean to imply that. It's just that, and please don't take this the wrong way, I left because...you aren't very fun."

"What?" He snarls, "I am fun! I played with you on the last pack hunt didn't I? You had great fun," he pauses, "didn't you?"

"Logan, being pinned to the ground by the scruff of my neck by a larger wolf and rolled around in the mud isn't exactly my idea of fun."

He growls, turning back to glare at the road. I sigh. "I'm sorry Logan, I guess I'm just not very good at being a wolf."

"No," he breathes, "you just don't have any self-preservation instinct whatsoever."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

We pull up at Stonehaven, and Logan swings round to open my door. I hop out, stumbling on clumsy feet. As I fall Logan's arms shoot out, yanking me into a sweet mockery of a hug. My face presses into his chest, and through his shirt I breathe in the thick masculine scent. He coughs, pushing me back and holding me at arms length. He clears his throat, releasing me and spinning back towards the house.

I enter the house, turning to walk up the stairs. "Olivia," Logan says, "they're all out on a hunt. Jeremy isn't up there."

"Oh." I say, heading for the back door. No doubt Jeremy wants to talk to me in his disappointed voice and Clay wants to yell at me until my eardrums burst, before giving me the silent treatment for a few days.

"Olivia, can you promise me that you wont put yourself at risk like that again?"

I frown at him, wondering where this is going. "Yes."

"Then we won't tell the others what happened tonight. Remember though, if this happens again I _will_ tell Jeremy."

I smile at him. "Thanks Logan."

"Your welcome," he mumbles, brushing past me into the kitchen. I hear the fridge open, and the crinkle of tin foil, followed by the scent of chilled beef. Boys and their food. I smile at the closed door. Logan may act like an arrogant toss-pot most of the time, and maybe he is, but he's still a good friend. The only problem is, I don't want to be just friends. I want to be more than that.

**There you go. Chapter Two, done and dusted. I hope you enjoyed it and will return for Chapter Three, which will be up as soon as possible. Please review, I welcome constructive criticism so don't be afraid to tell me something sucks. Or if you want to say something random, for example comment on the weather, or ask me to contemplate the price of baked beans, I am also open to random chatter. Bye. X X **


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